I remember a childhood of pretend soldiers in the poison ivy speckled woods. I remember friends and relatives. I remember the love of a family, even a broken one. I remember green fields, wide smiles, sunny days, laughter, and good times. I remember Saturdays sleeping in with my wife and the sound of my son’s cartoons in the living room. I remember warmth.

They showed me things that turned those memories to ash. Fires, eternally burning a body that could not die, reflected the world that I had forgotten. They showed me the wickedness of my youth and my disappointed parents. I watched the wild and reckless times of my adolescence where I poured sin on top of sin. They showed me my infidelity. They showed me my wife’s infidelity. They showed my child’s neglect. They showed me learning the ways of war, of murder, and the rewards that were heaped upon me for my skill. They showed me the pride I took in evil. They showed me how damned I was.

I forgot love in that fire and Hell had recruited a new general.